Last Night
by Lolext90
Summary: Spain wanders through the woods when he suddenly sees a letter. One shot based on a song about the Spanish Civil War.


**A/N: Hello, peolpe. A few days ago, while I was watching Hetalia, I suddenly remembered a typical Spanish children song about the Civil War and I came up with the idea of using it as a plot for a one shot-since I can't remembre the name of the song, I will put the lyrics in Spanish and English at the end of the fanfic- I do not pretend to show any political preferences with this, nor I'm trying to honor any side. The song simply goes about the horrors of war. I've also used some ideas from the Spanish book ****_The Blind Sunflowers (Los girasoles ciegos)_****, that sais that, in a war, everybody looses. I have not, however, used any of the characters of the book or any part of the plot, it has nothing to do with it except the main idea. There is no character that represents anyone who has really existed, and the two only names that are given are non existent: One is given by the song and the other one has been put by me. Sorry if I misspelled anything, English is not my first language. Enjoy.**

Somewhere in Spain, 1977

Spain was carelessly skipping through the woods. He was, as usually, cheerful and happy, and he thought there was no better idea to have a walk on the countrieside.

He was waltzing arount, without paying any attention at all to anything, but, however, as he reached a medow full of flowers, he started feeling stangely uneased, as if suddenly there was something he unconsciously knew there was something about himself in that clourful valley. He had had that sensation before, many years before. Due to the dictatorship, he hadn't been completely able to forget it.

Then, he saw between some brightly cloured flowers, something that caught his attention. He couldn't say what that was at first sight, but as he drew closer, he recognised a yellowish rectangular figure. The very moment he stretched his arm to grab it, he realised it was an old paper.

Once it was in his hands, he examined closely. The paper was larger than it seemed, for it had been folded several times. He could also see some brown stains-dried blood, he presumed. He could say by the handwritting that the author was a young man who-probably - was feeling very weak, for the pen strokes had left a very thin trail of ink.

He then started to read the first lines:

"_July, 1937_

_ I, Mario Enrique Nevado Ramos, parachutist of the 8th company, am witting this as a last letter, hoping someone will read it someday, and will know about the truth of the war"_

'How ironic' Spain thought sadly. Just as he read the next line, he saw that this last letter was written to the man's mother. Something in the nation's heart ached.

_ "Mother, I am writting beacuse I don't know if I'll ever be able to do it again. I no longer know what are we doing. What is the purpose of this war? I can't even remember, and it's not like I care anymore, for I consider myself to be dead already. I died the very first time I stepped on a battlefield._

_ What on Earth were we thinking about? Is it really worth it, mother? Is there really going to be a winner? As far as I know, we've all lost this war, for you see, ever since the sublevation, I have experienced and known the horrors of human hate. But last night, oh, mother, if you only knew._

_ During last night's battle, while I was in our trenches, I could only see the figures of hudreds of enemies storming towards us, many of them falling dead before they could even reach halfway through their side and our side. I could hear nothing but gunshots and cries of pain, which still scream vividly in my mind. Then, I saw this one person, racing quickly against me. I couldn't see his face due to the darkness that surrounded us, but there he was, aiming his weapon to kill me._

_ My actions had become automatical after all these months at war. I no longer fought for any ideologies or patriotic feelings. I simply fought to survive, to come back home, to forget the war, to believe this was nothing but a nightmare. So I aimed my fusil at him and shot without thinking twice._

_ Oh, mother! Why? That was the moment I really realised what this whole situatuion was doing to every single one of us. We are the victims. We are the killers._

_ It was my own gunshot that illuminated his face. He had his gaze fixed on me. Those eyes... those empty eyes will haunt me as long as I live. Do you know who I really killed last night, mother? Who that soldier really was?_

_ He was my friend José. My classmate from school, my childhood friend. And now that I knew who that man was, I could only see him as a child once again. That child I had played with... we had played 'hide and seek' so many times, we had played football... we had played 'soldiers and trenches'..._

_ I cannot contain my tears any longer. José, I am so, so sorry. I can't look at myself anymore, because last night, the game became reality, and in reality, guns kill and take our loved ones from our side. And now, my dear friend, you'll be burried in the could ground. I am so sorry. This is not our war. Why did you have to die? Why do we have to kill eachother because of some people's desires, when we are such good friends? We have to do it, yet we have no say in the matter. Then what will happen when the war ends, if it ever does? Must a winner be happy even though he knows he killed his brother? Oh, cruel world!_

_ If that's the case, I don't want to live any longer, mother. I can't find the strength to keep fighting when nothing around me makes sense, when I don't understand. _

_ I doubt you ever get to read this letter, but it makes me feel better to think that you'll know what I was thinking short before I died, for I think I have no much time left, since I'm weak and I don't see the point of resisting to death anymore. I simply want you to know that I'm sick of this useless war._

_ So, my dearest mother, I just wanted to speak to you one last time, for if I ever do it again, it will most probably be from Heaven, where José will be waiting for me once again, and maybe, just maybe, we will play again, for fire in games does not hurt. _'Two flowers in water cannot die. Two friends whor love eachother cannot forget about the other'_._

_ Right now, I am so weak that I can't continue writing, but I want you to know that, if my blood was ink, I wouldn't doubt to use it to tell you one more time that I love you, mother._

_ With all of my love, this is my last goodbye."_

Spain hadn't realised he had been holding his breath for a while. He looked all around the paper, but the letter seemed to end there. Maybe the author had simply decided to leave it there. Or maybe he had died before he could even finish it. But he would never know.

For that was all that was ever written about that young man who fought in the Spanish Civil War.

**Caminando por el bosque / ****_Walking through the forest_**

**Entre flores vi que había / ****_Between the flowers I saw there was_**

**Una carta ensangrentada / ****_A letter stained in blood_**

**De cuarenta años hacía / ****_From forty years before_**

**Era de un paracaidista / ****_It was from a parachutist_**

**De la octava compañía / ****_Of the eighth company_**

**Que a su madre le escribía / ****_Who was writing to his mother_**

**Y la carta así decía: / ****_And the letter said_**

**Madre, anoche en las trincheras / ****_Mother, last night in the trenches_**

**Entre el fuego y la metralla / ****_Between fire and shrapnel_**

**Vi al enemigo correr / ****_I saw the enemy running_**

**La noche estaba cerrada / ****_The night was dark_**

**Apunté con mi fusil / ****_I aimed with my fusil_**

**Al tiempo que disparaba / ****_At the same time I shot_**

**Y una luz iluminó / ****_And a light illuminated_**

**El rostro que yo mataba / ****_The face I was killing_**

**Clavó su mirada en mí / ****_He fixed his gaze on me_**

**Con los ojos ya vacíos / ****_With his eyes already empty_**

**¿Sabe, madre, a quién maté? / ****_Do you know, mother, who I killed?_**

**Aquel soldado enemigo / ****_Tham enemy soldier_**

**Era mi amigo José / ****_Was my friend José_**

**Compañero de la escuela / ****_Classmate from school_**

**Con quien tanto yo jugué /****_ Who I had played so much with_**

**A soldados y trincheras / ****_To soldiers and trenches_**

**Ahora el juego era real / ****_Now the game was real_**

**Y a mi amigo ya lo entierran / ****_And my friend is being burried_**

**Madre, yo quiero morir / ****_Mother, I want to die_**

**Ya estoy harto de esta guerra / ****_I'm sick of this war_**

**Si te vuelvo a escribir / ****_If I ever write again_**

**Tal vez sea desde el Cielo / ****_It might be from Heaven_**

**Donde encontraré a José / ****_Where I'll find José_**

**Y jugaremos de nuevo / ****_And we'll play again_**

**Dos claveles en el agua / ****_Two carnations in water_**

**No se pueden marchitar / ****_Cannot die_**

**Dos amigos que se quieren / ****_Two friends who love eachother_**

**No se pueden olvidar / ****_Can't forget about eachother_**

**Si mi mano fuera pluma / ****_If my hand was a pen_**

**Y mi corazón tintero / And my heart was an ink pot **

**Con la sangre de mis venas / With the blood in my veins**

**Te escribiría 'Te quiero' / I would write 'I love you'**

**Thanks for reading.**


End file.
